R Train to Bay Ridge
by areyouserial
Summary: A cop's youngest son from Brooklyn meets a rich girl from the suburbs at a college party they won't soon forget. Deciding they're better off as friends, Jamie and Eddie have each others' backs through four years of college. But a trip to Bay Ridge for a Thanksgiving with the Reagans might just make Eddie realize that she was home all along. A college!Jamko AU. Adult content likely.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N:** This is a festive College!Jamko AU. It's not intended to be long, just a few parts (famous last words). Even if they weren't partners, here's my take on what might happen if these two had met in college. And TTWHH is still happening! I just wanted to post this in the spirit of Thanksgiving. Thanks for reading!_

* * *

"Have you ever had a jaw massage?" Eddie noisily slings her backpack to land in front of Jamie's collection of textbooks and notes on the oversized library table. "Before you look at me weird-"

Jamie glances up and offers one of his trademark single-eyebrow arches, but she continues anyway.

"It's a real thing, Reagan. And it changed my life."

"Shhh!" Someone hisses from a nearby table.

Eddie furrows her brow and directs a disapproving look at the offended kid across the way.

"Eddie," Jamie whispers. "What are you talking about?"

"I just got a jaw massage from this guy-" She whispers back, pulling out a chair to sit down.

Jamie drops his pen to his notebook before pressing the heel of his hand into tired eyes. "What?" He huffs.

"It's not like it sounds."

"There's only one way for that to sound," Jamie reasons. "And it's creepy."

"No, it feels really good."

He sits back, and coasts his hands across the air above his books. "Okay, I am in a very specific research paper pit of despair," he explains. "So if you're here to work, great. But please don't tell me about some guy rubbing your face."

"You are such a drama queen." Her pointed, hushed voice cuts him off.

He sets an unamused gaze on her.

"Drama _king_ ," she adds. "How's that? King of the drama. Feel more manly now?"

"I'm not being dramatic," he insists. "I'm probably thirty percent done on a paper for ConLaw due tomorrow so, I'm sort of fucked."

Eddie leans forward and turns one of the books to read the spine. "Democratic Theory and the Constitution," she recites. "Sounds horrible."

"What about you?" He murmurs.

"I mean, I just finished a Mergers exam, but otherwise, I don't have anything due until after the break."

"Lucky you."

"Your professor didn't give you Thanksgiving break to get the paper done?"

"He did, I'm just having a panic attack for the fun of it," Jamie quips. "No, Janko. I have less than twenty four hours."

"Alright, alright," she sighs, pulling her backpack to the chair next to her. There she unzips it and retrieves a few notebooks. "Can I interest you in a jaw massage? I got a guy-"

"Oh, my god," he groans. "I have so many questions about this guy. And not nearly enough time-"

"He's a Human Anatomy major, Jamie."

"Yeah, I bet he is," he scoffs. "That's not even a major here."

Her gaze cuts to the side and little line of concern pulls her brows together. The look makes Jamie exhale a quiet laugh as he shakes his head.

"Well…" she starts, distractedly flipping open her planner. "That's all that happened. He kept calling me Emily anyway, so… there probably won't be any more of that."

Amused, a half smile curves onto Jamie's cheek as he returns his highlighter to another passage from his book. Eddie busies herself across from him and together, they work in relative silence.

Pausing a moment, Jamie's lips twist as he chews the inside of his cheek, taps his yellow marker a few times, then glances up. "So what was this guy's angle with the jaw massage?" He wonders. "That was his big move?"

"He wasn't trying to put a _move_ on me. He was doing genuine stress relief exercises in his dorm."

"Yeah, I got a genuine stress relief for you back in my dorm room."

"Gross, Reagan."

"All I'm sayin' is that guy scammed you. He was just a creep who wanted to put his hands on you."

"I handled it," she assures him.

He leaves her with a skeptical look and resigns himself to continue his research. The words loop in his mind, triggering the memory of the first encounter he'd ever had with the girl he now considers one of his closest friends.

* * *

Jamie Reagan had met Eddie Janko three years ago, in the fall of 2000, their freshman year at Fordham. It was an unremarkable October night. At least it started that way.

 _He found himself at a party where he knew exactly one person - his roommate Paul who had made friends with a bunch of art majors and some guy in a band who had an apartment, and who even knew how Jamie got roped into tagging along. Somewhere in there, Paul had disappeared with a girl and Jamie avoided conversation with anyone else, choosing to internally stress about a paper he should have been working on._

 _"Hey, do me a favor," she had whispered as she briskly made her way over to him near the back door of the kitchen where he stood._

 _"Huh?" Jamie's gaze barely had time to connect with the girl's, registering a flicker of urgent blue eyes and straight blonde hair just before her mouth crushed his. He rocked just slightly off his balance. Foamy keg beer sloshed over the rim of his plastic cup and dripped down his hand. But she steadied him, gripping his shoulder._

 _His instinct was to break off of this stranger's kiss and ask **what the fuck** but he was so caught off guard, it was as if he was frozen, his reflexes halted._

 _Her touch traveled up to his hair as her lips softened against his. It made his eyes flutter shut for a moment, but he blinked them back open when he felt her slip away._

 _She was still right there against him. Her breath tickled his lips and he'll never forget how she tasted like a green apple Jolly Rancher._

 _"Is there a guy behind me?" She wondered, her hushed voice seeping into him over the bass of the music that thudded the walls of this apartment._

 _"Uh-" Jamie managed. He glanced over the blonde's shoulder. They were at a party, there were people all over the place._

 _"Like a douchey one with a trucker hat on?"_

 _"Yeah."_

 _She exhaled an annoyed huff and edged up until her mouth trapped Jamie's once again. She urged him closer, a hand in his hair, one arm slung around his neck to grip the hood on the back of his sweatshirt._

 _Trapped between her and the countertop, his free hand naturally found her waist in order to anchor himself, but it hesitated there and he was just sort of fixated on whether or not to touch her._

 _He found himself leaning into her just a moment, almost stealing control of the kiss before he glanced up again across the room. Tilting his chin down, his lips parted, brushing softly across her lower lip, then left her._

 _"He's gone," he murmured._

 _With a deep breath she peered down and pressed fingertips into her brow. "Oh my god, I'm sorry."_

 _He couldn't help but let out a soft, good-natured laugh. "Um-" he faltered again._

 _She double checked behind her, then turned back and smiled up at him, undoubtedly the most charming grin he'd seen that entire abysmal semester._

 _"I'm Eddie."_

 _He offered a faint, dumbfounded nod before he felt his brow dip in confusion. "Eddie."_

 _"Yeah. And I don't normally- I mean, don't think I'm like-"_

 _"I'm Jamie."_

 _"Thank you. Jamie." Dutifully she stuck out her hand and Jamie exhaled in amusement as he glanced down and grasped it in a friendly handshake._

 _"Sure. I guess?"_

 _"That guy would **not** leave me alone. And he was wasted and gross and **god!** I mean, why are guys such pervs?"_

 _"Some of them definitely are-"_

 _"I told him I had a boyfriend," she rattled. "And he didn't believe me and I saw you and I just-"_

 _"It's okay," Jamie laughed._

 _"That probably makes me a hypocrite." Eddie looked up at him, worry creasing her forehead. Like, what is that, a double standard? Here I am complaining about a creep who wouldn't leave me alone and I just forced you to kiss me. You don't even know me."_

 _"It's- really it's okay," he assured her. "It's not a double standard considering... how obnoxious some guys can be."_

 _"Okay." She finally let out a relieved breath. "You go to school here?"_

 _"Yeah. Yeah, my um roommate heard about this party from… I don't even know. It's pretty bad though."_

 _"It's completely horrible!" She beamed when she said it and her eyes glimmered in this way that lit him up from the inside._ _"I'm leaving," she added. "Thank you again."_

 _"Are you sure you're okay?"_

 _"Um." He noticed the quick avert of her gaze as she swallowed. "Yeah. I handled it." Then she glanced up at him again with a smirk. "Maybe I'll see you on campus, Jamie."_

 _"Let me walk with you. I live in Bishop's Hall."_

 _Eddie's head turned with a critical glance to the beer in his hand. "Oh really?"_

 _Jamie looked at the cup to note the mental connection she obviously made about the students who live in Bishop's Hall and their pledge to avoid drugs and alcohol during their residence in the private housing._

 _He managed an innocent shrug. "I'm off-campus." But he set his crappy beer on the counter anyway and held up guilty hands. "I know. Expel me."_

 _"I pegged you for a Boy Scout but you're a downright rebel."_

 _"Shut up," he scoffed, and he could feel his playful smile at her teasing._

 _Eyeing him critically, she seemed to assess his intentions with her. "We're not going to kiss again," she warned._

 _Her suspicion prompted an awkward laugh from his chest. "I'd never assume we would. I'm just saying. We're both going back to the dorms, it's safer."_

 _"If that sleazy guy is out there, are you gonna kick his ass?"_

 _He could feel the smile on his cheeks. "You want me to?" Reaching back, he tugged the hood from his sweatshirt onto his head, then made a show of lacing his fingers together to crack his knuckles. "I'm from Bay Ridge, I'll do it."_

 _A loud laugh sent her head back as she smacked her hand on the kitchen counter. "Okay you can walk with me, Jamie from Bay Ridge." She reached up to shift some of her hair behind her shoulders and straightened her jacket. "I have police-grade mace, by the way," she noted._

 _The announcement threw him for a loop and he narrowed his gaze at her. "Are you threatening me, or offering your protection?"_

 _"Both," she giggled._

 _"Police-grade mace." Jamie furrowed his brow at her as he dumped the rest of his beer in the sink and turned to toss the cup in the trash. "What are you, a cop?"_

 _"No." She bumped his arm with her shoulder as she started toward the back door. "Are you?"_

 _He laughed. "No."_

 _"Then alright, rebel." She tilted her head and glanced back at him. "I live in Martyrs' Court, come on."_


	2. Chapter 2

After a happy little rap at his door, Eddie waits outside Jamie's dorm room, busying herself as she draws a picture of her own face on the small marker board secured there.

She's impatient, but she remembers the first time she let herself into Jamie's room one day and he was half-naked and nearly tripped into his jeans.

 _"First, you knock," he had instructed with a little hop, exasperated as he fastened the fly._

 _"What?" She shrugged innocently. "You're just getting dressed. I've seen more scandalous things, believe it or not."_

 _"Yeah? What if one time I wasn't exactly getting dressed?"_

 _Eddie tilted her head and couldn't help the arch of one eyebrow. "What might you be doing?"_

 _"I have a roommate too, you know."_

 _"Well I do a little recon before I just charge in here."_

 _"Whatever," he muttered._

 _"Just lock the door if you're in here getting yourself off, then it won't be a problem-"_

 _"Jesus, Eddie."_

 _"Or whatever 'not exactly getting dressed' means." She flicked her gaze to the side and felt one teasing corner of her lips quirk upward._

As she finishes giving her illustrated self really amazing eyelashes, the door is pulled open in front of her.

Jamie peers out through a narrow opening before easing it all the way for her. His bare chest rises and falls with a deep exhale. "Hey."

"You alive this morning?" She wonders as she caps the dry-erase marker and sticks it back on the board.

"Sorry, I was in the shower." He turns back into his room, luring Eddie's gaze to follow him, the enticing paths of his back, lean muscle like brush strokes nearly impossible not to appreciate from behind.

She makes her way inside and presents him with a large cup of coffee. "I came to check on you. And bring you this."

He glances her way just before he slips his arms through his shirt, an exaggerated groan of satisfaction rattling out of him before ducks his head into it. "Thank you. You're alright, Janko."

She sets the cup on his desk. "How's the paper?"

Reaching out, he grasps the square red diskette lying beside his laptop and holds it up for her. "Seventeen pages of horseshit but it's done. I just need to print it in the lab."

"Oh, give me a break." Eddie groans. "I'm sure it's your professor's wildest fantasy. It'll probably be his night time erotic reading."

"You should see my references page, it's pretty sexy."

"Is that right? You want a little bit more alone time with it?"

"No. I want it out of my sight," he complains. "I never want to think about it again. I'm gonna turn this in at Professor Richards' office, then I'm out of here."

"Going to your parents'?"

"Yeah. Sleep. Turkey. Football. And more sleep," he lists, sinking onto his bed beside Eddie to put on his socks. "That's my plan. What about you?"

"Uh. Let's see. Sleep, Chinese takeout, my Business Ethics textbook, and more sleep."

"No turkey?"

"Where am I going to cook a turkey? Long Island Mike's bootleg toaster oven?" She gestures toward the hallway. "I'll take orange chicken and fried rice any day."

"Wait a minute. " Jamie pushes himself up enough to grasp his coffee cup, then sits back down, shifting toward her. "You're not going home?"

Her head drops to one side and Eddie offers him a look to let him know that's a pretty dense question. It wasn't all that long ago - just last summer - that her father was sentenced to six to eight years in federal prison for fraud, money laundering, and perjury, among other charges, a turn of events that had essentially shattered her already flimsy relationship with her family.

"My mom and my Grandma are in Serbia," she tells him then shrugs helplessly. "Don't really feel like giving thanks at Fort Dix Correctional, so-"

"So come home with me."

Eddie looks up at him from underneath a questioning brow. Tipping his cup to his mouth, he manages a heavy gulp of his coffee and just looks at her in this perfectly earnest way that he does sometimes.

"No." She blows out a laugh. "I can't do that."

"Why not?"

"Because it's your family. It's Thanksgiving."

"Come on, Eddie."

"It'll be weird," she insists with a defensive lift of her shoulders.

"It won't be weird." He takes another long pull from his coffee and Eddie studies the subtle clench of his throat.

Reaching down, she snaps the elastic band around her wrist meant for her hair but actually serves as an annoying way to distract herself whenever she finds her mind wandering to some of the more enticing qualities of Jamie Reagan. Whenever she catches herself entertaining the notion that they could maybe, _possibly_ trip over those clearly delineated friendship boundaries they had established Freshman year.

"I've got a big family," he reasons. "What's one more person?"

"What, would I sleep there?"

"There's a guest room."

She feels the concern show itself on her face, then she scrunches her nose and pushes herself to her feet. "I appreciate it, Reagan, but I'm good here. I promise."

He merely offers her another look, that hopeful half smile, those well-intentioned lines along his forehead.

"Go turn in your paper," she decides, before Jamie can ask her again. She reaches out and digs affectionate fingertips into his shoulder, wiggling a few times, then turns toward the door. "See you when you get back."

* * *

 **Maybe he's right.**

 **Maybe there is something the matter with me.**

 **I just don't see how a world that makes such wonderful things…**

 **...could be bad.**

The heavy thud of a knock at her dorm room door prompts a weary groan in Eddie's chest. She lazily tips her head back, stretched across her twin bed. "Yeah?" She calls out over the floating notes of Ariel's voice coming from the little TV set on top of her dresser.

She hears the door ease open and after a moment, she glances up to see Jamie standing over her, his wool coat on, his backpack perched on his shoulders.

"Janko, come with me."

"No," she groans.

"You can't lay here and watch _The Little Mermaid_ all break-"

"Watch me, it's real easy."

Shifting, he drops his backpack to the floor and makes room for himself beside her head as he sits down.

Another grumble in protest edges out of her as his weight sinks into the mattress.

"Don't you want to at least get out of the dorms?" He wonders.

She peers up at him through a wisp of blonde hair that she's too lazy to push out of her eyes.

"Come on."

"Your family makes me nervous," she admits.

"Why?"

Finally, she sits upright, brushing the hair off her face as she scoots back. "Oh I don't know. Everyone's a cop or a lawyer-"

Jamie shrugs. "So don't tell them about the time you almost got expelled for setting Gary's CD collection on fire."

"Greg!" She insists, her fist reaching out to clutch the front of his sweater. "You call him _Gary_ just to be a jerk."

A laugh sputters out of him and Eddie tries to fight the smile that breaks onto her face, but she's easily charmed when Jamie cracks himself up.

"And I did not!" She maintains. "That candle just fell and I had nothing to do with it."

He narrows his gaze and nods in phony reassurance that he believes her and she has to smack his shoulder once more.

With an embarrassed smile, she shakes her head down into her palm and knows it thrills Jamie anytime he can give her shit for the one guy Eddie sometimes finds herself falling back to whenever she's feeling particularly lonely and needs a distraction. But he's not been a distraction in quite a while, and certainly not since the unfortunate fire incident that left them on - what some would say were - hostile terms.

"They're just regular people, Eddie," he tells her.

"Yeah, and they're going to wonder what's up with my family," she reasons. "Why aren't I spending Thanksgiving with my parents? _So Eddie, what line of work is your father in?"_ Her voice shifts to imitate what she assumes Jamie's hardass father sounds like if he's anything like the Commanding Officer Jamie has described over the years. "It's just easier to hang out here where I don't have to deal with it." She sets her attention back on the television to watch Flounder's little fish face fall as he and Ariel gaze up longingly to the ocean's surface.

Jamie resigns himself as he slowly gets to his feet. "Well that sucks," he sighs. "My mom makes this mac and cheese from scratch and it's pretty major, but that's fine. You probably wouldn't be into that anyway."

Eddie cuts her eyes over to him and feels herself sit up a little straighter. "Yeah?"

"Mm-hm," he hums.

She blinks and glances down at her hands, realizing that she's easily swayed by promises of food and an impossibly cute face. Then she looks back up at him, a twitch threatening her lips. "What kind of dessert situation are we talking about?"


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N:** I am the worst at starting things, convinced I have time to finish and then, and then wind up being way too slow. Let's pretend it's still Thanksgiving and enjoy Eddie's first trip to the Reagan house. :) _

* * *

_Atlantic Avenue. Next stop, Union. Stand clear of the closing doors._

As a swell of people exit the train leaving them with a bit more room, Eddie adjusts her duffel bag between her feet and shifts on the seat next to Jamie as the doors to the subway car slide closed. "So. Things not to mention?"

Jamie eases back in the hard plastic seat and glances over at her. "Don't ask to see any of my baby pictures."

She smirks. "Fine. Middle school pictures, then."

A sleepy smile stretches his cheeks and he looks down at his lap. "Uh.." He starts. "My brothers don't know I've applied to law school."

Eddie blinks her surprise. "Seriously?"

He shrugs. "Yeah, I just- I don't know. It hasn't come up."

"Well… who _does_ know?"

"Besides you, and people at school? I've told my mom. And my sister."

"And your dad?"

He runs a hand over his face, rough from a day's worth of neglecting to shave. "I haven't told him personally. But I'm sure my mom has mentioned it."

"Why haven't you told them?" She wonders, then exhales an incredulous laugh. "Reagan, you got like a sixteen hundred on your LSATs-"

"One seventy-five," he corrects with a laugh.

"Whatever, it was a big deal. I'd be telling strangers on the train. How do you just _not_ tell your family?"

"I won't hear whether I got in until maybe April. And even if I do get in, at least with Harvard-"

"Which you will."

"I don't know how I'm gonna pay for it."

A sympathetic half-smile curves softly along her cheek. "With the evils of student loans, that's how."

"Yeah, well-" he sighs.

"Does everyone expect you to be a cop or something?"

A soft laugh escapes him. "Yeah," he scoffs. "Danny would never let me hear the end of it."

"You could pull it off," she decides with an easy shrug. "Ruining people's good time is kind of your thing-"

Swiftly, he reaches out to pinch right above Eddie's knee and she can't help jerk in response. A squealy giggle bounces out of her before she swats him away.

"Jerk," he mutters through a smirk. "Hey, my mom wanted me to be a Catholic priest."

Eddie's eyes grow wide as she cuts him a judgmental look.

"I don't wanna hear it," he announces.

She cracks up as he head tip back against the wall of the subway car. "Mm-hm. I'll keep my thoughts to myself then, rebel."

"Yeah? That'd be a first." His gaze shifts over to her, something vaguely familiar glowing there as his lips twitch.

Her leg quickly knocks into his and she doesn't miss the little swoop her stomach makes when Jamie grins down at the floor before he grasps the bar beside him.

The squeak of train brakes offers a pleasant distraction and he begins to rise from his seat.

 _This is Seventy-Seventh Street, next stop, Eighty-Sixth-_

"Come on shorty." He gestures with his head toward the opening doors. "This is us."

* * *

"There he is!"

Eddie glances up the block to the stately brick Colonial on the corner to see two men in the front yard call out for Jamie.

"Look who's all grown up, he brought a girl!" The older one, who's clearly Jamie's brother, shouts just before he jogs a few steps back then launches a football down to the street. "Incoming!"

"Oh, here we go," Jamie murmurs and has to push off, running up the sidewalk to catch the ball against his chest. "You need glasses, old man?"

"No, I just like to make you sprint for it," his brother grins from the yard. "Hey!" He redirects his focus to Eddie as she meets Jamie at steps leading up the their walkway. "I'm Danny."

"This is Eddie," Jamie offers. "We go to school together."

"Eddie?" Danny wonders, the usual way people echo her name back to her when they try to connect that name to her face.

She nods, her lips pressed together in a smile. "Eddie, yeah. Nice to meet you."

"This is Joe."

"Hi." She moves from one brother to the next with a handshake as Jamie introduces them, then she adjusts her bag on her shoulder. Her gaze narrows slightly as she attempts to find the common thread between the three of them.

Danny sports a dress shirt, untucked probably when he decided to start passing the football, and a grey tie loosened at his throat. With dark eyes and a wiseass grin, he's just the thorn-in-his-side older brother Eddie pictured when Jamie had described him over the years.

Joe claps a hearty pat on Jamie's back after they exchange a firm hug, then hooks an arm around his head, ruffling his younger brother's hair before he releases him. The bridge between Danny and Jamie, Joe shares Jamie's polite green eyes and angular features. It's as if he's the actual grown-up version of Jamie, with his navy crewneck sweater and tidy haircut.

"So what's the deal?" Danny wonders, gesturing between his brother and Eddie. "Girlfriend? Friends?"

"Friends." They answer at the same time.

Eddie doesn't miss the shared exchange between Danny and Joe, the threat of a chuckle twitching their cheeks.

"Yeah, my um…" She starts. "My mom's out of the country. So, Jamie just invited me to tag along."

Danny's gaze narrows as he nods at Jamie, unconvinced, and manages a sarcastic "Okay, kid."

"Danny, don't even start," Jamie complains.

Eddie has to laugh at how quickly the little brother in him surfaces, how expertly Danny can get to him. And here she thought _she_ was good.

"Hey, I didn't say nothin'!" The oldest brother insists, then scoffs at Joe. "Jeez, this one's extra torqued up today."

"No, you're just putting on an act because there's someone else here to show off for." Jamie lobs the football back at an unsuspecting Danny who catches it against his middle.

"Eddie." Danny smiles. "Welcome. Please come in, make yourself at home." He gestures back to the door, then bends forward in a slight bow as if he's proud of himself and his superior manners. "You like that? Now go see everyone else, and dump your crap and then touch football game in twenty minutes. We're playing teams." With that announcement, he backs up and Joe takes his cue to go long as Danny fires a pass across the yard.

Digging teeth into her lower lip, Eddie sneaks a glance over at Jamie, holding back her commentary. She's on the verge of cracking up because she's never seen him in this light, the low man in the totem pole, catching heat from someone who knows better.

"Okay kid." She smirks proudly, echoing Danny's sentiment.

"Don't." He mutters and starts up the walkway, Eddie following close behind.

* * *

Jamie had always described a modest upbringing, a big Catholic family from Brooklyn who ate dinner together every night. He had strict parents and mischievous siblings who left him never wanting to make waves. He grew up earning straight As, fishing at the pier, and probably helping old ladies cross the street.

But the place that he comes from takes her by surprise. A long line of cops and tradition and deep roots, all honored in the walls of this impressive house. Dark wood, and ornate draperies, framed family history, military service, public service, accolades and commendations - they're all evident, not in a way that's boastful, just rich with a story to tell.

Erin is the one Reagan Eddie has met before. Jamie's only sister had come up to Fordham to visit once. She greets Eddie with a warm hug, apologetic about the brown sugar on her hands, and proceeds to take over showing her the rest of the house.

There, she meets Erin's husband Jack, Danny's wife, Linda who's pregnant with their second child, and Jamie's mother Mary Margaret, all hard at work in the kitchen. And before Eddie can offer to pitch in, or properly scan the counter for any available snacks, Erin pulls her along to meet her young daughter, Nicky who sits helping Danny's four-year-old Jack make puppets out of paper bags. Erin brings Eddie around so quickly, she starts to lose count of how many people she'll be joining for dinner. Who owns this many chairs?

And finally, Jamie's father and grandfather welcome her into the study, a quiet refuge from the bustle of the kitchen and living room. Jamie's there, and Erin leaves them to get back to her chopping duties.

The study mesmerizes Eddie for a moment. Its warm afternoon glow and heavy dark furniture, not to mention the presence of these two men, suddenly make her want a glass of whiskey, a remark she can't help but make as she gazes throughout the room.

"I can make that happen," Jamie's grandfather, Henry promises. "What's your drink? I've got Bushmill's and I've got Jameson. And-" He points, shifting in his brown leather club chair. "For after dinner, a Macallan rare cask single malt. I've been saving it."

"Grandpa, stop trying to get her drunk," Jamie laughs. "We just got here."

"The point of good whiskey isn't to get drunk," Henry contends.

Jamie meets Eddie's amused gaze, his thick eyelashes flitting with a roll of his eyes.

"It's to savor."

"I'm, uh-" Eddie smiles. "I'm good. Thank you. Maybe later."

"Yeah, plus our game's getting ready to start, I guess?"

"Yes!" Erin shouts from the next room, then she's quick to join them once again. "And Eddie is the perfect addition because Linda can't play, so we're off to talk strategy." And with that, Erin swoops Eddie out of the room.

"Oh," Eddie laughs nervously, then with a bouncy few steps, hurries to keep up with Erin's long strides. "I'm playing?"

"Who says she's on your team?" Jamie calls after her.

"I do!" Erin calls, and leads Eddie out to the front yard.


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N:** Thank you for all your kind words! I've never been very good at writing fluff so enjoy this turn of events. :)_

* * *

"So it's you, Erin and Danny against me, Joe and Jack," Jamie explains, turning from Eddie to point out across the yard.

The brisk afternoon breeze blows wisps of Eddie's hair as she pulls it up into a high ponytail. Then she tugs up the sleeves of the maroon Fordham sweatshirt Jamie had let her borrow. It swallows her small frame but she didn't feel right about running around in the nice top she'd meant to wear for dinner. Plus she didn't pack much else.

"That doesn't seem very fair."

"Erin's husband, not Danny's kid," he clarifies.

"No, I mean you three guys against a team with me and your sister-"

"Oh, Erin's savage," he warns with a flick of his eyebrow.

A smirk curves along her lips at the playfully competitive hint already shining in his eyes. "Yeah? Good. Because I don't even know how to throw a football," she confesses. "So be gentle."

"Seriously?"

"What?" She shrugs her shoulders in defense. "I'm an only child, my dad was never home. Some of us didn't look like a Sears catalog out on the front lawn on Thanksgiving day."

"Alright." Jamie claps the football against one hand before he hands it off to her. "Quick rundown. Danny's your quarterback. Every play's a pass-play. One pass completion is a first down, four chances to score," he rattles off. "That tree is your endzone."

Eddie nods but she can feel the confusion clouding her eyes as she looks off at the tree across the yard. "So when my team has the ball, just catch it and run."

Jamie's head tilts. "Basically yeah. And when you're on defense, it's a two-hand touch for a tackle."

Glancing down at the ball, she attempts to stretch her fingers across the taut brown leather. "Mmkay…"

"Here." He comes closer, and slips just behind her shoulder. Fitting his right hand over hers, he adjusts her grip on the ball. "Thumb down here, this finger here," he murmurs as he concentrates. "These fingers over the laces. If you can," he chuckles softly. "Your hands are really small, Janko."

She scoffs an offended squeak and glances back at him. "What do you want me to do about it?"

"I've just never noticed." How closely he looms over her when she peers up sends this sudden pang of warmth in her stomach that she doesn't expect. The lazy stubble on the hard angles of his jawline, the recognizably pure scent that lingers beneath his shirt intrudes on her thoughts and she's momentarily irritated by how much she likes it.

She swallows hard and urges herself to look away from his hand, notably larger than hers and still resting there. "So like that?"

"We might have to get you a kid's football-"

Her elbow hastily knocks into his side, urging him a step back as he teases her, that damn smile warming his cheeks. "Yes. Like that," he assures her. "Now just pull back and throw-"

"Hey you two!" Danny shouts from the edge of the yard. "Hands where I can see 'em. This is a family game. Come on!"

Danny rouses the teams, pulling his aside for a quick huddle. Eddie can't help but be amused at how seriously he takes his role as quarterback as he strategizes with her and Erin, cutting a suspicious glance over to the three guys across the way, holding a huddle of their own.

"Eddie, you'll snap the ball. When I drop back," he explains, "you stay close. Be ready. Pass to Erin, she'll run it in. Jack's going to cover her, so you gotta be quick."

"Got it," Eddie nods.

"Alright, let's go!" Danny barks. "Beauty versus Brains."

"Hey!" Both Eddie and Erin turn to shoot him a disapproving look.

Jack stands up straight, spreading his hands. "What are you saying? We're not beautiful?"

"I'm just saying," Danny contends. "Clearly we're the better looking team. Look at these dorks." He gestures to his younger brothers across from him.

"Maybe if you'd quit running your mouth," Jamie speaks up, "you'd actually get the ball halfway across the lawn."

"It's gonna be like that, kid?"

"Gonna be like what?" Jamie wonders, taking his place across from them. "Me telling you to shut up and play? Probably."

"Alright alright," Erin cuts in. "Can we start? Who's receiving?"

"We are," Joe announces. "Losing team does dishes?"

"Loser does dishes," Danny confirms. "Ready? Set!"

Eddie glances between the two sides, everyone dropping into their stances.

"Set!" Danny shouts again, then stands up straight with a huff. "Eddie that means you. Get in front of me."

She blinks over to him. "Oh!" Then she smiles, scrunching her nose which earns her a laugh and hops into position.

"BLUE FORTY-TWO." Danny bellows the words that Eddie's pretty sure are nonsense considering she wasn't aware they named any of their plays, but everyone indulges Danny's apparent quarterback fantasies anyway. "On-two-on-two! Hut HUT!"

Eddie snaps the ball as instructed in a backward pass between her legs. As Danny drops back, she darts to the side as Joe rushes their way counting, "One Mississippi-Two Mississippi-" until Danny fakes a long pass but tosses it off to Eddie instead.

The ball lands in her hands and she squeaks in surprise, hugging it to herself as she takes off running but Jamie closes in on her.

"Eddie, here!" Erin shouts from the edge of the lawn.

She darts back a few steps, averting him, before she turns and launches the ball over Jamie's head and all the way across the yard where Erin easily snags it and scampers away from Jack to cross the tree.

"That's right!" Danny cries out, victorious, as he runs over to Eddie for a high five. "You see that finesse?"

Jamie turns back to Eddie, hands spread in confusion, his face adorably bewildered. "What the hell was that?"

She grins at him. "Oh I forgot. I actually know how to throw a football."

His head drops back, resigned, and he lets out an exasperated groan. "What?"

"Because I kick ass." She reaches up to tighten her ponytail and brushes some of the hairs that have escaped away from her face. Then she lays her palm in the center of Jamie's chest and pushes herself back a step. "But thank you for the lesson."

His gaze narrows as she shares secret exchange with him, the smirk on both of their mouths teasing one another.

"Oh I see," he murmurs before he points across the way at her. "Be gentle, my ass. You're gonna get it now, Janko."

* * *

"Pass interference!" Danny cries. Eddie glances back to see his arms spread wide as he gapes at Jamie.

Jamie slows his jog. Breathless, his chest rises and falls as he tucks the football in at his side. "Was not!"

"Oh really? What do you call that? You block my receiver, you had your arm against Eddie's chest-"

"Yeah, it's called defense," Jamie argues.

"Unless you're trying to cop a feel," Danny comes closer. "It's called a penalty. Automatic first down."

"Man, shut up!"

"Eddie, was he not blocking you?" Danny looks to her to settle this and it begins to sink in that this game just got way too serious.

She draws in a breath and glances at Jamie. "I- I don't think it was intentional."

"Quit making dumbass calls when something doesn't go your way," Jamie tells him. "You think you're Peyton Manning or some shit. Get out of here with _pass interference_." Then he shoves the football against Danny's chest, rocking him a step back. "Take your damn first down."

"No, no no. Stick it in your ass. We don't need it," Danny retorts, snatching the ball and smacking it into his younger brother's gut where Jamie just catches it. "Let the kid have his way. Jamie's never wrong, ain't that right?"

"Why do you have to be an asshole?"

"Why do you have to be such a _baby_?" Danny cuts him off. "I called you out for trying make a cheap move, rubbing up against your girlfriend-"

"Shut up!"

"And you try to play it off as defense-"

"Shut up, Danny!"

"And I won't let it fly, _Jamie_!" He finishes. "You get away with everything in this house and no one ever calls you out on your shit-"

There's probably more to Danny's rant, but Jamie chucks the ball to the grass and turns to move past him. "Forget it," he mutters, but manages to check Danny's shoulder with his own.

"Hey-" Erin warns.

But Danny doesn't let him get away with the blatant shove and quickly reaches up to grip Jamie's sweater at his chest and hauls him to the ground.

"Hey!" Erin shouts again. "Danny, cut it out!"

Sucking in a startled gasp, Eddie jumps back as Joe and Jack rush in to pull Danny away. But in a flurry of elbows, struggling limbs and curses muttered through gritted teeth, they aren't able to break it up before Danny lands an expert punch.

It all happens so fast and Eddie finds herself strangely frozen and helpless. She feels compelled to dive in there and shove Danny off of him because she's never seen such an idiotic fight. But obviously a tension had existed between the two brothers long before they showed up at Thanksgiving dinner.

Jamie's able to gain some leverage as he knocks Danny off of him, swiftly gets to his feet, before he leans over and pushes his older brother onto his ass. Jamie turns and stalks toward the house and Eddie hears him mumble, "Fucking moron" among other choice descriptions as he goes.


	5. Chapter 5

_**A/N:** Don't worry, TTWHH isn't over. I'll get back to it, I'm just putting this story out there right now. _

_Jamie's pretty banged up, let's see if Eddie can make it better. :)_

* * *

"What?" Jamie mutters when he hears the faint knock at his bedroom door.

After a moment without a response, he turns his head on the pillow where he lays sprawled across his twin bed on his back. There in the doorway, he sees Eddie, one shoulder propped against the frame.

"Hey." Her soft greeting manages to temper that red anger that Jamie feels behind his eyes, just slightly. She stands there palming a bag of ice, hesitating at the threshold. The Fordham sweatshirt has been abandoned and she's left in jeans and a creamy, long-sleeved shirt that dips in a V at her neckline. The sight of her makes him forget for a moment that he just got punched in the face.

"Wow you knocked," he remarks and shifts his gaze back up at the ceiling.

"I just brought you some ice." She takes the cue to push off the doorframe, shut the door behind her, and step into the room. "Are you okay?"

He merely closes his eyes, reaching a hand over to absently rub fingers across his brow. "I'm fine."

"Linda wants to know if she should come take a look at you."

"No," he answers. "He hardly hit me." It's a lie but he refuses to let Danny's wife fuss over him like some hospital patient.

The blaring guitar of the Bush CD in the stereo abates to a low hum and he turns to see Eddie slowly twist the volume knob before she approaches the bed.

"My jaw massage offer still stands," she tells him.

A soft laugh that he doesn't expect blows out of him. It makes his cheek throb just where Danny's fist had landed. "Never."

She smiles as she slides onto the edge of the bed near his legs. "Get up."

With a chuckle, he manages to lazily sit upright. He can feel the heat just beneath his eye and he sees the concern dip across Eddie's brow when she gets a better look at him.

"Jamie." The quiet way she sighs his name stings a little in his chest. She passes the bag of ice to him and he reluctantly takes it.

"It's not that bad." Wincing, he touches the ice to his cheek, so cold it practically burns.

When he glances up, he sees that she's watching him with this sort of solemn expression he rarely sees on her face. His throat feels thick and a warmth spreads up his back at the feeling of her shiny gaze on him.

She breaks it off before he does, tilting her chin down and she clears her throat. "You'll have to come up with a better story than your brother beat you up for trying to cheat at touch football."

Reaching out, he nudges her with his forearm and she pushes back, a soft giggle lighting up the curves of her cheeks.

He leaves her with a heavy palm that grips just above her knee, insisting, "I didn't cheat!"

She sort of rocks forward at his touch and amid the mutual smacking of one another, they've managed to scoot even closer. While one leg swings off the side of the bed, her other knee steeples, that leg draped over his as she faces him and he finds himself fighting this urge to tug her closer.

Glancing down, Eddie takes the bag of ice from his hand that he can't manage to keep on his face and props herself up a little straighter. She leans into him. "Hold still," she tells him. "Your eye is going to be all puffy if you don't keep this on.

With her free hand, she rakes fingertips back through his hair, still a mess and she picks out a few stray blades of grass and then gently touches the ice to his cheek once again. The combination of the frigid chill of the ice and the heat from her hands on him confuses his senses. And there's something else. Some other sensation triggering this thud he feels in his heartbeat.

"It's a real shame about your face," she speaks up.

It's green apple Jolly Rancher. That's the faint tart scent that floats, just for a second, into his memory and it damn near halts his pulse altogether.

"I mean you used to be relatively good-looking," she explains, her voice a hoarse murmur with her lips this close to him. "But… those days are behind you."

A twitch jumps at his cheek. "Oh yeah?"

"Maybe you'll be lucky with a full recovery…" The tease of her words tapers off as she lifts her lashes and that glittery, curious gaze dances back at him. "What?" She barely edges out the question.

He glances down to her shiny bottom lip, then up, managing to draw in a sharp inhale as he eases his head back just enough to find some new air that isn't swirling with this need to let his mouth fall on hers.

"Nothing," he murmurs with a soft exhale as he reaches up to scratch the back of his head and focus anywhere but her lips that look so good to him right now, it makes his chest ache.

"Dinner's probably ready soon." Eddie gently lowers the ice, clearing her throat as she takes her hands off of him. "How are you feeling?"

He sniffs a soft laugh. "What I wouldn't give to have stayed in the Bronx with you and eat Chinese food right now."

A curvy smile graces her cheek and she shifts to move off the bed. "How about some ibuprofen and a plate of mac and cheese?"

He blows a deep breath and turns to set his feet on the floor. He tilts his head side to side as if he's considering it.

"Do some shots with your grandpa?" She offers.

With a heavy laugh, he smiles up at her where she stands in the middle of his room. "Hey, might as well at this point, huh?" He pushes himself up, following behind Eddie as she turns toward his bedroom door.

After a couple steps, she stops, hesitating there with her back to him. Then after a beat, twists back around, seeming to question her next move and Jamie notices his own breath trapped inside his chest, swelling there.

He already feels like a jackass for how this day has unfolded and he mentally wills her not to give him any more crap for it, hoping they can just strike this day from the record.

But she says nothing. Just makes her way over to him in a purposeful few steps until she collides with his chest and he meets her mouth with his own.

Without realizing it, his body completely anticipates her. It isn't like Freshman year where Eddie crashed an unexpected kiss on his stiff lips and he was left to wonder what the hell this girl was doing.

This time he reaches for her, draws her in at her low back, hands clasped like he's not going anywhere.

Her soft lips linger in a lazy, unhurried kiss as her palm lands gently on the back of his neck. The hint of sour green apple must have been a figment of his memory because with her mouth on his, she doesn't taste like sticky sweet candy at all. But hypnotic and perfect and it makes him dip further for more of her.

Fingers digging into the back of his sweater, she urges him closer. A shaky breath escapes him as his head tilts to slant his mouth over hers and he hears her reciprocate the urgency in the tiniest whimper that vibrates her throat. The sound, coming from her, is so sexy he wonders what other ones he could elicit.

He's just about to unlace his fingers to skate up her back when she stills against him. Her lips fall from his. In a quiet moment, they remain there, his forehead resting against hers, his eyes still shut.

When he opens them, he sees her do the same before she flicks her gaze down, uncertain, and grazes her fingertips along the reminder of their kiss.

"We should-" She starts, then clears her throat. "Um. Dinner."

His voice nearly cracks. "Yeah."

"Uncle Jamie!" Nicky's voice jerks him out if his temporary daze from outside his bedroom door.

Lifting his head with a quick inhale, he glances at the door and Eddie moves a step away just before it eases open.

"Uncle Jamie, dinner's ready," his niece announces, letting herself in. "Everybody's asking if you're okay."

"Hey," he attempts, lightly. "I'm good."

"What are you doing in here?" She wonders, peering around the room.

"Just- Um."

"What are you and Eddie playing?"

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Eddie press her lips together and look down at the floor.

"We… are playing-" Jamie begins, letting his palm fall onto the top of Nicky's head as he jostles her side to side. "How many dinner rolls do we think Nicky will eat at Thanksgiving dinner?" He wonders aloud, then turns her back out the door.

She giggles and they follow toward the staircase. "Ten!" She declares.

"Ugh, ten?" Jamie groans, directing Nicky to head down first. "That's gross!"

She cracks herself up and Jamie glances back once more at Eddie just behind him. Her uncertain gaze is only outdone by the curious smirk across her lips. He feels himself mirror the slanted half-smile and realizes they just started something he knows isn't over.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** Oh no, it's not over. ;) More to come!_


	6. Chapter 6

"I'm sorry, alright?"

Jamie just barely hears Danny's apology over the sound of running water and clanging dishes at the kitchen sink in front of them.

After such an embarrassing altercation that led to a swollen, bruised cheek for Jamie and an uncomfortably quiet Thanksgiving dinner, their mother made sure that dishes afterward would be left to only the two of them.

That is, it was uncomfortably quiet for Jamie. Danny had grumbled over his sweet potatoes amid discreet nudges from his wife. His dad and Grandpa and Joe carried on as usual about something on the job that had Erin chiming in, which left Jamie to focus on his macaroni and cheese. He had tried to zone out to his grandfather's storytelling because he needed something to override the memory of Eddie's little sigh as her lips slipped from his just upstairs in his room.

Somehow, he was convinced there was evidence of that on his face, or he was chewing differently, or sitting weird. He didn't deal well with guilt.

But like always, the tension had gradually dissipated over dinner. Grudges were dropped of brushed aside in the name of a civil family dinner and not making their guest feel miserable.

"It's fine," Jamie manages as he carefully hand-dries another plate that his mother won't let him put in the dishwasher.

"I was outta line," Danny admits.

Nodding, Jamie glances over at him while Danny soaps up another dish. "It was just a stupid football game."

"I'm competitive." His older brother's shoulders lift insistently.

He can't help his quiet laugh and he merely shakes his head.

"I'm not saying that's an excuse," Danny continues. "Sometimes, I guess… I feel like it's my job to whip you into shape. Toughen you up, I don't know."

"Toughen me up by punching me in the face?"

"No. Look, I'm sorry it ended like that." Danny hands off the plate. "But you do get your way, let's be honest."

"Oh yeah," Jamie scoffs. "I'm really getting my way right now."

"Mom and Dad always made sure you had it soft."

"Are you kidding me? Mom and Dad were always so busy chasing you and Erin down for all the crap you'd pull that they didn't have time to make anything soft for me."

Danny laughs and looks down into the sink with a shake of his head. "Sometimes I think about whether you're gonna go into the family business."

Jamie looks over at his brother, a little surprised that he even pays attention to Jamie's aspirations after college.

"You know, enroll in the Academy, join the force-" Danny continues as he moves on the scrub a pot. "You used to talk about it as a kid, but lately you're kinda quiet on the topic."

Jamie reflects on it with a nod as he stacks one more dry plate. "Sometimes, if I ever brought it up, it's like I was on a job interview with you," he explains. "Like you were the expert and I had to get your approval."

"I know, you think you're too good for my advice-"

"It's not that."

"For what it's worth, I think you'd make for a stand-up cop," Danny offers. "I think the streets would do a number on you, but… I also think they'd be lucky to have you."

A half-smile starts to pull at Jamie's cheek and he exhales, sort of in disbelief that Danny would ever volunteer any praise like that. "Thanks."

Danny shrugs like it's nothing. "It's the truth."

"I, um…" Jamie manages a nervous swallow. "I think I'm gonna go to law school."

His brother glances over at him. "Seriously?"

He nods. "Yeah. I've had a few professors who have made me see what I could really do if I went down that path."

"You wanna be like your big sis?"

"I don't know. I think it's another way to make an impact."

"You two did get the brains, that's for sure."

Jamie scoffs. "Come on."

"Hey, I think it suits you," Danny reasons. "You'll come out on top no matter what you do. You don't need my approval."

Jamie takes his time drying the pot while he observes his brother, wondering whether his own admission was disheartening for him. "It means something, though," he speaks up. "So. I appreciate it."

Danny simply nods and focuses on his next dish.

"Look," Jamie adds. "You don't need to toughen me up, alright? It's not my fault you have a weak-ass pass-"

Danny throws a good-natured elbow into Jamie's arm as he stands beside him. "You wish, kid. I'd challenge you to a push-up contest, but I don't want to make you look bad in front of your girlfriend."

He deflates with an annoyed exhale. "Danny, you know we're just friends, you gotta get over it."

"Who brings a cute girl who's _just a friend_ home for Thanksgiving dinner?"

"I did, because her family's not around for the holiday," Jamie insists. "I don't know why you make such a big deal."

"She's cute."

Jamie shrugs. "Okay. You wanna run it by Linda before you get her phone number or something?"

"Shut up, you know what I mean."

"She's just a friend, Danny."

"You know I'm paid to tell whether or not someone's lying-"

A smirk creeps onto Jamie's face, but he fights it, as he reaches overhead to replace the stack of plates. "Really? I thought they paid you to be a pain in the ass."

"Deny it, that's fine. But I'm calling it right now."

"You have no proof," Jamie contends.

With an amused grin, Danny shuts off the water and grabs the dish towel. "You sound like a damn lawyer already."

* * *

Eddie had been sitting in the study with Henry, enjoying stories of the NYPD's early days while Jamie and Danny cleaned up in the kitchen.

After she hears Danny retire to the family room, Jamie joins her in the study. The impact of Danny's fist is still visible on his face, a raised dark red welt making itself at home there. He helps himself to a glass of the top shelf whiskey Henry had opened, walks over and eases back onto the couch beside her while his grandfather steps out for a moment to check on the score of the game.

"What's a wood shampoo?" Eddie murmurs her question, leaning over to Jamie's ear and he nearly chokes on his first sip of whiskey.

Henry returns to the room in time for Jamie to question what the hell kind of stories he'd been telling her.

"Grandpa!" Jamie laughs. "Really? I leave you alone with Eddie for a few minutes and you're already telling her how you took care of business in the old days, huh?"

Eddie grins, the evidence of her glass of whiskey already felt in the warm glow of her cheeks. "So what is it?"

Jamie smirks around a sip from his glass. "She's asking what a wood shampoo is."

"Ah!" Henry smiles and goes for his bottle of Midleton. "Listen, it was a different time back then. We had a dangerous city to protect. Consider yourselves lucky that young kids like you can wander around the Bronx today in one piece."

Eddie feels her eyes flash and she looks over at Jamie who merely cuts his gaze to the ceiling. She decides she's just going to assume the term means hitting someone over the head with a bat until he gives her a more accurate definition, and she won't question it.

On the way back to his seat, Henry stops by the couch where Eddie sits and offers the bottle. She holds out her glass to accept and he pours just a scant refill.

"I had red wine with dinner," Eddie notes. "Is this a bad idea?"

"You sure you wanna mix like that, you lush?" Jamie teases and he's easily treated to a light shove from Eddie beside him.

"You're more of a lush than I am."

"Please," he mutters, but the amusement is evident in his sideways glance at her.

"Were you with the police department during the Son of Sam murders?" She wonders, sitting back against the red cushions.

"Oh yeah," Henry answers.. "I was a Captain at the one-oh-nine in Queens."

"What was that like?"

"That piece of garbage had this whole city gripped with fear," he recounts. "And in the end, we tied him back to a parking ticket from the night of the last murder."

An incredulous laugh bubbles out of her. "What?"

Jamie nods and chimes in, "He used his own getaway car every time, registered in his name."

"Mm-hm," Henry hums. "So once we were able to connect a parking ticket to the murder on the same block, it was just a matter of piecing It all together." He turns, tilting the bottle to his youngest grandson.

"I just got here," Jamie defends what remains of his drink.

"It's Thanksgiving and we're talking about serial killers," Henry reasons. "You need to catch up."

With a sigh, Jamie tips his glass and downs the rest of his whiskey. Eddie sort of blinks in surprise watching the Adam's apple in his throat bob as he swallows hard.

"Fine," he answers in a hot exhale and holds out his empty glass.

"Alright, no more of that nonsense, this isn't a whiskey you choke down," Henry points. "Go slow on this one."

Eddie can't help the pull at the corner of her lips. "A man with a black eye like that needs two drinks, wouldn't you say so Mister Reagan?" She wonders.

Henry lets out a hearty chuckle and points in approval to Eddie. "You got that right."

* * *

"Is there anything I can get you, honey?"

Eddie gasps softly as her foot lands on the last step on her way upstairs and she glances down the darkened hallway to see Mary Margaret come closer.

"Sorry," Jamie's mother laughs. "I didn't mean to scare you. I just came out to make sure the heat kicked on. Sometimes it's flaky."

"Oh." Eddie exhales with a smile and points to the cup in her hand. "No I just got myself a glass of water before turning in for the night."

"Do you have everything you need?" Mary Margaret checks as she studies the thermostat on the wall near the master bedroom. "Extra blanket or anything?"

"No, everything's great. Thank you so much… for letting me stay."

"We're happy to have you," she assures Eddie. "Jamie's talked about you for years, it's so lovely to actually get to know you."

The revelation sends a flare of warmth in Eddie's core that she can only partly blame on what she'd had to drink that night. Graciously, the corner of her mouth quirks and she nods. "I'm so glad I got to meet you too. Jamie's so lucky-"

Just then she hears the running water at the sink in the nearby bathroom shut off and the door opens. There, Jamie steps out into the hallway, glancing back at them.

"Everything okay?" He wonders, a nervous slant to his brow.

"Yeah," Eddie whispers. "Just headed to bed."

"We'll see you in the morning." Mary Margaret turns the other way. "Jamie, get some sleep." Then she makes her way to the bedroom at the other end of the hall and closes the door, leaving Eddie in the dark hallway just outside the guest bedroom.

Jamie stands there near his own room, dressed for bed in loose plaid pajama pants and a plain white t-shirt. It's a look she's seen on him a hundred times over the years. But tonight it tugs at her and leaves her with this out of the ordinary longing to be closer to him.

He reaches up to scratch the back of his head. "Are you good?"

Pressing her lips together, she nods. "Yeah. Tired."

"Yeah," he laughs softly.

But she isn't at all. And a swirling uncertainty sinks through her. She lingers at the door, shifting her weight on the balls of her feet. "Um. So sleep well," she tells him, then backs up and grasps the doorknob. "Goodnight, Jamie."

She sees his throat clench as he swallows, murmuring, "Goodnight Eddie," before he turns the other way.


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N:** Thank you for coming along on this ride with me. The inspiration struck and I needed to go with it. Just a little, ahem, heads up that this story's rating has changed to an M for adult content. And you're about to find out why. Enjoy! :)_

* * *

He's managed maybe two hours of sleep in the last twenty-four thanks to a term paper that kept him up the night before. And yet, Jamie lies there in his bed, totally awake. Sleep refuses to find him.

With his hands tucked beneath his head on his pillow, he gazes up at the ceiling and mentally replays the moment with Eddie in his bedroom. He can't get it out of his mind and he doesn't know how in the three years they've been friends, they've never managed to blur those boundaries until today.

There had been near-moments. Little flickers of _maybes_ when they'd catch one another's eye for a lingering beat. Instances of weakness, on both of their parts, when they found themselves alone or rejected, or having a much better time with each other than they were with whoever they were supposed to be with at the time.

But they always found excuses, always maneuvered away from the line they refused to cross. He just hopes that the fact that they stumbled over it this time didn't screw them up for good.

"Reagan." She whispers his name from the other side of the room and Jamie jumps, shifting to glance at the door.

"Hey," he whispers back, then pushes himself upright. "You okay?"

Noiselessly, she closes the door behind her and looks over, tucking her hair behind her ear.

He focuses in the darkness that almost glows with blue moonlight and eventually he makes out her silhouette. She wears a long, pale sweater that drapes off one shoulder. As she comes closer, he sees her bare legs that stem from soft cotton shorts, only a tease longer than the top she wears.

"I'm okay," she answers. "I can't sleep, though."

With a soft exhale, he swipes a hand through his hair as he sits beneath the blankets. "Me neither."

"So I'm sorry about earlier," she says. "When I kissed you… I don't want you to think…"

"No, I know."

She nods and crosses her arms over her chest as she glances around the room.

He wasn't sure what he was asserting that he _knows_ , but something tells him she's not exactly sure that she's sorry.

Finally, she looks over at him once more. "Are we good?"

He breathes out a quiet laugh. "We're good."

Rocking a few times on her heels, she stalls at the foot of his bed. "Okay, so maybe those Son of Sam stories freaked me out just a little."

He feels the amusement tug at his cheek. "Hey, you started that conversation."

"I know. I was sort of morbidly interested, and now I regret my curiosity."

"Well he's serving like, multiple life sentences upstate, so I think you're alright."

She huffs a dramatic sigh. "The windows in this house lock, right?"

"You seriously question the security of this house, all things considered?"

Her head tilts side to side in acceptance.

"Besides," he adds, "The Son of Sam killer didn't break into people's houses."

"True."

"I mean, Ted Bundy did, but-"

"Oh my _god_ , Reagan!" She tries her best to maintain a whisper and dashes over to his bed on quiet feet before she pounces there on the blankets.

He cracks up, tilting over as he makes room for her.

"Ugh," she mutters. "Don't be a jerk."

"Okay, okay," his soft laughter dissipates as Eddie scoots up beside him on her knees. "I'm sorry."

"Too bad Danny left, because I'm sure he could protect me."

Jamie groans, narrowing an offended gaze at her and the smug curve along her mouth. "Oh man, that hurts, Janko."

She leans in, burying her giggles into his shoulder. "Well hope you weren't intending to sleep comfortably because you've got yourself a bed buddy for the night." Eddie adjusts the blankets and slips her legs underneath beside him.

"Is that right, buddy?" He questions as he watches her settle in.

"Mm-hm." She scoots down onto her back. "It's your fault."

A scoff hisses out of him before he resigns himself to his back beside her. The arrangement feels platonic for all of three seconds until it doesn't.

He shifts his pillow so that she at least gets some of it and stirs as he attempts to fit himself on his back without his leg grazing hers under the covers.

"Alright, shifty," she speaks up.

"I'm trying to give you room." He decides it would be easier if he just turns onto his side and he ultimately settles that way. "How's that?"

She glances over at him and he meets her gaze long enough to spark a flicker of heat in his chest. Rather than answer, she merely shifts onto her side away from him. For just a moment, he's disappointed but the move is probably for the best.

They lie there in the quiet late night amid faint noises from wind in the trees outside and one another's rhythmic breathing.

His eyelids finally begin to feel heavy when her voice invades the quiet.

"Jamie?"

"Hm?"

"You're a real pain in the ass."

A soft laugh rumbles his chest.

"But thank you for inviting me here."

He feels a secret smile crest along his lips. "No problem," he murmurs. "I'm glad you came."

They're quiet again and then Jamie notices the way she shifts back, edging closer to him. It makes an unexpected breath hitch in his chest and he has to wonder whether she meant to nudge his chest with her back.

He moves too. Faint touches he's not sure are accidental make his pulse thud. His knee brushes the back of her thigh.

Everything about her, the way she lingers right there, her hair soft, just grazing the edge of his jaw, makes him ache. She smells so good, the clean hint of the shower she'd had before bed doing a number on his willpower.

"If you scratch my back, I'll fall asleep faster," she tells him.

He stifles a laugh behind her and feels the smirk on his face. "You and your back scratches. You're like a little bear."

A sleepy giggle shakes her shoulders and she eases up to swoop all of her hair over the shoulder she's laying on, as if she's giving him more access. "Please?"

His eyes fall closed and he gets comfortable on his pillow. Drawing lazy circles with his fingertips, he absently scratches her back, something he's treated her to countless times. On campus, they'd be studying or watching TV and a back scratch was often one of Eddie's innocent requests. She was usually satisfied with a good hard grazes along her shoulder blades for a few seconds.

She inhales deeply. "Thank you."

"Good?"

"Lower."

His hand does as instructed, traveling low to her waist.

"Under," she murmurs.

"Under what?"

"My shirt."

That was a new one. Reaching down, he finds the hem of her sweater and carefully ducks a hand underneath. He scratches light fingertips back and forth over the dip in her lower back and doesn't miss the airy whimper that floats from her when he does.

He squeezes his eyes shut and almost pushes his face into the pillow like he's trying to force the memory of that noise out of his head. After an aimless path up the center of her bare back, Jamie's fingers gradually slow. _Leave her with a friendly pat on the back, retract your hand and turn over before you stumble into dangerous territory_. That's what his head should be telling him.

But it's failing him right now and the desire to be close to her, prompted by the way she exhales gentle sighs at his touch is what's making all the decisions for him.

The scratching motion stops and instead, he begins to skate fingers in a curving path up the plane of her back, then back down, before he flattens his palm against her.

He feels her push back against his hand, urging herself closer, and he continues.

He's mesmerized by the feeling of her smooth skin and the way he feels her breath catch when he dips his hand along her waist.

"Are you asleep?" He whispers.

"No."

He tries to control a shaky breath, exhaling through his nose, as his touch falls to her hip, over her shorts.

She swallows another floating sigh and with what _has_ to be complete intent, arches her back until the curve of her ass grazes the front of his shorts.

His heart hammers inside his chest and he manages to keep from tugging her hips back, even though hers would fit so perfectly against him.

Instead, his hand squeezes, appreciating the rise and fall where he grips her hip. Then he slides his hand up, just at her ribcage before he swipes his thumb there.

Her breath comes out hard and she shifts in front of him again, rocking her hips back in this achingly slow roll that's getting him hard and he's about to not care whether she knows.

But she knows. Her movements aren't thoughtless. They're deliberate and so damn sexy and he's not sure how long he can sustain this sort of unspoken… _activity_ and still believe it fits into the confines of an innocent back scratch.

He leans in and drops his forehead to the inviting curve at the back of her neck. There, he lets his eyes fall shut as he manages a deep breath in an attempt to tame his heartbeat.

She opens up one shoulder and turns her head, twisting back against him. He feels her hand find his where it rests on her side. She eases it out of her shirt. Then slides fingers under his, lacing them together, opening and closing and grazing his palm.

He lets out this little hum of amusement as she plays with his hand which she sweetly echoes.

Eddie tugs gently, and he's not sure where she's going with it as she guides his arm across her.

He rolls closer as she presses his flat palm against her chest, right at the open neckline of her sweater. She adjusts his hand, then lower, holding her own over his and it takes him a second to figure out where she's leading him.

And before he can make another move, he feels it. The dull thump of her heartbeat, pulsating an urgent rhythm that he just barely makes out if they lie still enough.

His eyes close once more and a faint smile twitches his lips as he breathes out a soft laugh against her hair. "Mine too," he murmurs.

Her fingertips stroke the back of his hand, then he feels her trace her index finger over his hand in the slow shape of a heart.

Easing his hand away, he pulls it back and slips it underneath her shirt once again. There in the center of her back, he copies the shape, drawing his fingertip lightly over her skin to make a heart of his own.

Eddie hums another soft note before she begins to shift. She turns over in his arms to face him and it steals his breath for a silent moment to have her that close. With parted lips, her unsteady breath teases his.

Closer, his mouth grazes hers. The slightest brush of his lips elicits this barely there noise in her throat and lures him to touch another kiss there.

She meets his lips briefly, but they hesitate, separating again by a mere whispered breath. It's as if they both know that once they give in to how badly they need to feel each other, the scales will tip completely. They'll fall over the line and have no hope of scrambling back across this time.

Their heavy gazes meet in the darkness for just a flicker of validation and then the weight of Jamie's kiss lands, rough against pillowy lips.

Rather than sink beneath him, she presses into him just as hard, anchoring him with a hand on his face.

He holds her, needy hands find her waist again and it's anything but feather light touches this time. Easily, they seek out more of her, slip down to her hips and urge her closer.

Her thigh slinks on top of his and Jamie skates his palm from her hip, down the curve of her ass and along her thigh before he grips the back of her leg and tugs her against him.

The invitation pulls her until she nudges him onto his back and follows on top.

He doesn't contain the murmured groan that echoes in his chest when she straddles him beneath the blanket and tilts her hips down. But in this big, silent house, neither one of them can keep it up with noises like that or they'll give themselves away. Especially with the door unlocked. Long greedy, heavenly kisses have him lost in how damn good she feels on top of him. She buries her noises there, suppressing them in her throat until they escape in a rushed exhale.

Sometimes she takes a break to nip playfully at his lips, to flick a taste of his tongue and watch him chase her as he raises his head to capture her mouth once more.

When she lets him, she sinks back into him and the sensation lifts his hips, shamelessly seeking out friction between her legs.

 _Fuck_ , it feels too good and he's distracted by how hard she's gotten him. Every time she rocks her hips, digs fingers in his hair and lets go of one of her quiet whimpers, he fears he'll lose it.

His hands travel up her back, underneath her shirt once again before they dip down and he slips fingers beneath the waist of the shorts she wears. When he does, she rocks her hips like she craves more of him and the slow friction between them has him wondering when the fuck one of them is going to lay on the brakes.

Because the way things are going, with neither one of them making moves to get rid of the other's clothes, this can't end all that smoothly. He hasn't felt this close to coming with half his clothes still on since he was about sixteen. And even then, a desperate makeout with his high school girlfriend didn't compare to the blissful heat of whatever this is and if the sensation manages to overcome him, he might die.

He can't stop her, but he can't presume she wants to keep going either. Not here. In his childhood bedroom with his parents asleep down the hall. That notion helps abate the urgency of his hard-on, so maybe for everybody's sake, he should focus on that a little longer.

Eddie's movements slow against him, lingering lazy kisses on his lips that feel stung, tingling with want. Her back rises and falls with heavy, quiet breaths and she holds his face in her hands as she tips her forehead against his.

He sees her look down at him, grazing his swollen bottom lip with the edge of her thumb. Maybe this is where they stop. Where they decide it's getting too heated considering the circumstances and they call it a night.

His hands slide out of her shorts and he holds her at her waist. He welcomes another kiss from her. This one softer, almost chaste before she pulls away.

She brushes another one against his lips and he reciprocates, teasing the very edge of her tongue with his own and it prompts this repressed sigh from her throat as her eyes flutter shut. She does it to him and he nips at another kiss. But she cuts that off when her mouth falls on his again, hungry this time and _fuck_ , they can't quit.

With a hard breath, she slants her mouth heavy over his. He grasps her hips, palms the curve of her ass over her shorts before his hands slide inside.

Another airy whimper floats from her, more urgent this time and he doesn't hesitate to reach down the back of her shorts and tug her closer with a blatant handful of her ass.

The move grinds her hips harder and he holds her to him as he meets each rise and fall with his own.

She doesn't tear her mouth from his. Not to breathe, not to make a sound. She can't. He can tell she's burying the need she has with kisses that are too hard, but he does the same.

If their hushed noises don't tell on them, the subtle creak of his mattress springs will. And there's no denying the rhythmic tell of his bed that they've initiated.

She hitches her knee up higher at his side and it's like she's riding him with every intentional roll of her hips and it's about to ruin him.

Her breath escapes her in short, uneven bursts when she breaks off his kiss and drops her head to the side of his neck. He manages a gulp of fresh air, tilting his head back as her muffled soft moan fades into his skin.

Her hips buck against him and she almost squeaks against his shoulder over his t-shirt, but she quickly digs her teeth there to deny it. Her hand slides under his other shoulder and she grips so hard he has to bite his lower lip to keep from calling out.

She sucks in a quick breath and he feels her halt her movements altogether. It's so sudden, it confuses him.

Her back jerks as she clings to him. She gasps and he holds onto her, feeling another shudder pulse through her before she manages a shaky exhale and practically falls limp on top of him.

He blinks.

She doesn't move but he feels her racing heartbeat against his chest.

Did she...

Just-?

* * *

 _... to be continued!_


	8. Chapter 8

Jamie's gaze darts around the room as he catches his breath, reorienting himself with where he is. An awareness sets in that their entire momentum just came to an abrupt end.

"Eddie?"

She slinks lower, dragging her forehead all the way down his chest until she ducks out of sight beneath the blanket and he hears her muffled, "Oh my god."

He exhales a quiet laugh, almost in disbelief of what just transpired. The realization of her orgasm teases his mind. If that is what just happened.

In the limited occasions he's participated in a girl getting off before, it never ended with her wrapping herself in his comforter in an attempt to disappear forever.

"Are you-" He starts. "Hey."

"Nope," she whispers. "I'm just gonna…" And then she takes the blanket with her as she attempts to untangle herself from it. And in her effort to find her way out of the covers, winds up falling off the edge of the bed.

"Oh my god, Eddie!" Jamie's hushed words are outmatched by the tell-tale _thump_ of her landing on the wood floor.

He throws himself face-down where he can't help but sputter a laugh into his pillow.

"Fuck!" She hisses.

"Are you okay?" He manages, but his body is still wracked with unexpected laughter.

"Shut up!"

"Are you okay?" He repeats himself. His eyes are watering and he genuinely tries to contain his amusement but he can't stop and he has to turn his head to crack up into his own arm.

A hushed giggle bubbles from underneath the blanket where she remains in a heap on the floor and it makes him laugh even harder.

"Get the hell up here," he whispers.

"I'm making a smooth exit," she insists before deflating into another fit of giggles which he matches, keeling over in his bed and burying his laughter in his sheets.

"I'm gonna die," he manages a weary warning.

"Great! Me too," she announces. "Nice knowing you."

"No really. Please come back up here."

Eddie sweeps the blanket off her head sending a mess of blonde hair over her shoulders. "If we weren't busted before, we will be now."

"It's fine."

She glances nervously to the bedroom door, quiet for a moment like she's anticipating footsteps coming to check on him.

"I'm too scared to open your door," she finally says.

"So then don't go."

"I have to! What am I gonna do? Come out of your room in the morning?" Standing up, she sweeps a gesture down her body. "Looking like this?"

His gaze flicks down, her bare shoulder, her legs as she shifts on nervous feet. "I think you look nice," he shrugs.

She glares and her face scrunches, clearly annoyed with him. "You know exactly what I look like. And your parents aren't stupid. And you're _so Catholic-_ -" Her face drops into her hands and she muffles a groan there.

"I don't know," he considers. "What we just did was pretty Catholic, so-"

"Bye, I'm going out the window."

"No, Eddie," he chuckles, climbing out of bed. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. Look. Please stay." He gets up and follows, grasping her at her arms. "It'll be fine, I promise."

Gradually, she lifts her chin and treats him to calming blue eyes. She looks at him for a moment before a soft laugh flicks the corner of her mouth and she lets herself take a deep breath.

"I didn't-" She starts. "I didn't think that would… happen. I guess."

Offering a faint smile, his touch trails down her arms until loose fingers lace with hers and he holds her hands. "Didn't think you would-" One brow arches. "Fall out of bed?"

She exhales a laugh. "Yes. Fall out of bed." Her hands squeeze his and together, they take a few steps back. "That was unexpected."

"I was really close to falling out of bed," he tells her and he can feel the tease on his face. "So I'm really glad it was you and not me."

"Oh my god," she mutters, her eyes close and she lets her face fall against his chest.

"Look, I don't know what I would have done if that had gone on another ten seconds anyway," he confesses.

She lifts her head and treats him to the flash of her playful blue eyes. The way she felt, the way she kissed him and the noises that escaped her were some of the hottest sensations he had ever experienced, even more than actual sex with past girlfriends.

"Honestly," he laughs.

"Well." She clears her throat, giving a coy glance to the side. "I'm sorry. If that was painful."

"Don't apologize."

A smile grows on her face as she looks up at him. "Okay. Well… since we're not apologizing," she says. "When I came in here earlier and said I was sorry for kissing you…"

"Yeah, what's that about?"

"That was a lie," she confesses. "I'm not… sorry."

He glances down with a grin and notices their hands before he absently traces the tip of his thumb in a heart shape on her palm. "Yeah, neither am I."

"I know that you're my friend," she continues and blows out a nervous laugh. "And I don't want to do anything to screw that up."

He looks her, the uneasy crease along her forehead, the way she drags her bottom lip beneath her teeth. His heart pounds for her and it makes his entire chest feel like it's going to burst. The feeling sneaks up on him, like this culmination of every moment, every stumble, every _something_ with her, like pieces to a puzzle that together, suddenly start to look real.

His hands leave hers and he reaches up to let them slip into her hair. He holds her, letting his forehead rest there. "You know you're so much more than that," he whispers.

Her eyes fall closed and he has to smile at the adorable scrunch of her nose. She offers a soft nod before her face tilts up and her lips brush his.

He savors her kiss, the heat that still lingers there before he slips away and quirks one eyebrow. "But really do you know? I think you know, but- you know?"

She bites down on a quiet laugh as she gazes up at him. "I think I know-"

"I love you." The words just happen. It's like he opened his mouth to say something else and that's what came out. But it's the truth. He loves her so damn much, the idea of keeping her at the distance of simple friendship makes his chest feel hollow. "I mean- I know that's…" He finally exhales a heavy breath and tries not to cave in on himself. "Out of nowhere."

She swallows hard and gives him this reassuring smile. "It's not."

"We _are_ friends." He tells her. "But-"

"I love you too."

He looks at her, seeking that sparkle of affirmation in her eyes. They glow a deep blue with hints of silver in the darkness of his room and they captivate him, they always have.

And then her lips part when her gaze connects with his. "I… I know we've been friends for a while now. So in that way, I've loved you," she continues. "The way you do when you care about someone."

He nods and his stomach sinks as if all this heavy air tumbles out of his lungs. Nervous, fidgety fingers continue to loop around one another as he finds himself still playing with her hands.

"I don't know-" she starts before she manages a shaky breath. "If I've known a long time, or I've just realized. But now, it's-"

"Different," he murmurs.

Letting her gaze settle on his again. "It's different," she echoes softly.

He offers the beginnings of a proud smirk. "I've known a long time."

"Oh shut up." Her palm smacks his shoulder. "You have not. You just realized the minute you saw my expert football pass."

"I knew when I watched you run across my yard and you looked just like the Super Mario Brothers-" And then quietly, he jogs in place to mimic the strides of her short legs.

She pounds his shoulder again with her fist and Jamie cracks himself up as she continues her assault.

He swoops his arms low around her hips to steady her and they rock side to side before they topple onto the bed together. They're quick to shush each other as their laughter dissipates and she adjusts on her back.

She sweeps a stand of hair off her face. "I will be happy to give you a black eye to match the one you already have."

"I bet you would."

"So mean," she whispers with a twitch at her lips as she lies beneath him.

"Will you stay?" He wonders.

With a deep breath, she narrows her gaze at him as if to figure out how such a sleepover would unfold. "But your parents-"

Jamie makes a face like it's nothing that concerns him.

A smile pulls at her cheek and her lashes lower, glancing to his mouth as it looms over hers. "You rebel," she whispers, just before he captures her lips in a kiss that feels like the very last piece to something real.

* * *

 _ **A/N:** That's all for this little story! I hope you enjoyed some holiday AU Jamko shenanigans and thanks for reading!_


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